And, moreover, it is art in its most general and comprehensive form that is here discussed, for the dialogue embraces everything connected with it, from its greatest object, the state, to its least, the embellishment of sensuous existence.
quote by Friedrich Schleiermacher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Object
You know you turn me on
Eyes so white and legs so long
But don't try to talk to me
I won't listen to your lies
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
Sophisticated smile
You seduce in such fine style
But don't try to fool me
'cause i can see through your disguise
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
But i don't mind
I just don't care
I've got no objection
To you touching me there
Object object
Object object
Object object
Object object
You know just what to do
Lick your lips
And i want you
But don't try to hold me
'cause i don't want any ties
You're just an object in my eyes
You're just an object in my eyes
But i don't mind
I just don't care
I've got no objections
To you touching me there
You're just an object object
Object object
You're just an object
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The state I am in
In my periods of self-imposed isolation,
when I am in a state of being,
rather than that of action,
when my passiveness, becomes paramount,
and my ambition is reduced
to one of apathy,
when I exist as an inanimate object,
rather than an object which
reflects life,
when I am present,
but unaccounted for,
when I suffer from
sel-inflicted wounds
and wound others about me,
becoming a wall of inhumanity
that no one is able to scale,
including myself,
a solid nothing,
erected by one's own
faltering ego,
a state of inertia, that following
the laws of physics,
cannot move until acted upon
by an outside force,
(and probably not then either) ,
then I wonder,
what state is it,
that I am in?
Certainly not a vegatative state
as I would not be able to do
whatever the hell it is I am
doing now.
Certainly not a comatose state
as I would be unawake and
unaware of my surroundings.
It's possible that I could be
in such a state of mind
as to not know
just what it is that I am doing.
But that's ridiculous!
I do know what I'm doing.
So, what state am I in?
Why, Arizona, of course!
poem by David Lessard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our object in the construction of the state is the greatest happiness of the whole, and not that of any one class.
So Connected To You
There are times when I'm happy
and times when I'm sad
and all of these times that I have had
are all connected to you,
so connected to you.
so connected to you.
There are times when it's sunny
and times when it's not
and all of these times I never forgot
were all connected to you,
so connected to you.
'Cause you have my heart on a string
and I can't control one little thing.
Where's my composure? Where did it go?
'Can't even answer for I don't know.
There are times when I'm jumpy
and times when I'm still
and times when I'm playful
like Jack and Jill.
And they're all connected to you,
so connected to you.
So what do I do to get over you?
You've got me crazy in love with you.
I take a step forward and fall back two
and everywhere that I go
there'll be times when I want you
and times when I don't.
There'll be times that I'll have you
and times that I won't
but there's absolutely nothing I can do
'Cause I'm connected to you,
so connected to you
So I know we can never be through.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Peace Proposal
Said General Clay to General Gore really must we fight this silly war
To kill and die in such a bore I quite agree said General Gore
Said General Gore to General Clay we could go to the beach today
And have some icecream on the way a grand idea said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore we'll build sand castles on the shore
Said General Gore we'll splash and play let's leave right now said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay but what if the sea's closed today
And what if the sand's been blown away the dreadful thought said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay I've always feared the ocean's spray
And we may drown it's true we may it chills my blood said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore my bathin' suit is slightly tore
We better go on with our war I quite agree said General Gore
The General Clay chanrged General Gore as bullets flew and cannons roared
And now at last there is no more of General Clay or General Gore
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Generals
Said General Clay to General Gore,
'Oh must we fight this silly war?
To kill and die is such a bore.'
'I quite agree,' said General Gore.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'We could go to the beach today
And have some ice cream on the way.'
'A grand idea,' said General Clay.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'But what if the sea is closed today?
And what if the sand's been blown away?'
'A dreadful thought,' said General Clay.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'I've always feared the ocean's spray,
And we may drown!' 'It's true, we may.
It chills my blood,' said General Clay.
Said General Clay to General Gore,
'My bathing suit is slightly tore.
We'd better go on with our war.'
'I quite agree,' said General Gore.
Then General Clay charged General Gore
As bullets flew and cannons roared.
And now, alas! there is no more
Of General Clay or General Gore.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Novelty
Novelty.
This object.
Discussed...
As if devoid of feeling.
Blatant when shown disrespect.
Neglected like a weed.
But a flower this becomes.
Protected as it grows.
How it does it no one knows.
Reflecting no hints,
Of a torment separations felt...
That sent it grieving.
Obstacles met.
This object has no regrets.
It feels blessed,
To have survived!
No novelty is the life within,
That thrives.
And pioneers upon new horizons.
Brave and unafraid...
To be used as a preview to what comes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Putting a New Face On The Same Dilemma
Putting a new face on the same dilemma,
Does not erase the affects of it.
But those in high places,
Accustomed to deceit...
Believe and will do anything they wish,
To control resources.
And quick dismissals,
To what is regarded as foolishness...
Is a priority addressed on that list.
Like feelings connected to humanity.
Or that which is connected to its existence.
With a pocketing done of money kept number one.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sensuous Whisper
Ive seen you, I saw you, I see you
Without little notice, if any at all
Of you knowing me watchin you
You walking, you talking, you smiling
You styling in everything your body wears
And thats not just a point of view
Theyre painting, theyre ranting, theyre raving
About miss lovely got it going on
From head down to her toes
And no one knows better than I know
Cause Ive been listening to the spirit of
Your body, mind and soul
Its a sensuous whisper
That makes my body weak
Its that sensuous whisper
Thats sweeter than the sweetest sweet
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes my psyche say
Ooh we, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Can feel you, can smell you, can taste you
Though my senses never had the pleasure of
That lovely wonderment
But I start to shaking, I shiver, to think that little sparkle in your eye
Means you are giving me some kind of hint
Im ready, Im willing, Im able
In fact those words are at the tip of my tongue
Eagerly waiting for me to say
Then you smile and whisper how are you?
But when I move my lips and try to speak the words just go away
Its a sensuous whisper
That makes my body weak
Its that sensuous whisper
Thats sweeter than the sweetest sweet
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes my psyche say
Ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its that sensuous whisper thats got me trippin out
Its that sensuous whisper
That I dont wanna do without
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes me want to shout
Ooh we, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
I dont even care how long it takes
As long as I have you lying next to me
Cause to wait forever and a day
Is a small price to pay if its you Im getting
If its you Im getting, Im not quitting
And that is how Im living
Im clinging, not dreaming, but scheming
With my nose against the grind and both my eyes focused upon the prize
I think it, I trust it, I know it
Your love that Ive longed for is gonna be mine
Good things do come in time
Im right on the rythm youre givin
But this is more than giving up some casual mental telepathy
The music, the candles, the champagne and all thats needed
Is one thing to give it authenticity
Its a sensuous whisper
That makes my body weak
Its that sensuous whisper thats sweeter than the sweetest sweet
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes my psyche say
Ooh wee, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its that sensuous whisper
Thats got me trippin out
Its that sensuous whisper
That I dont wanna do without
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes me want to shout
Ooh we, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its a sensuous whisper
That makes my body rock
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes me beg baby dont ever stop
Its that sensuous whisper
That always get me hot, baby
Ooh wee, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its that sensuous whisper
That makes me feel alright
Its that sensuous whisper
That keep me wanting you morning, noon and every single night
Its that sensuous whisper
Dont want you out of my sight, baby
Ooh we, ooh wee, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we, ooh we
Its that sensuous whisper (repeat)
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sex Object
Yes! No!
Yes! No!
I don't want to be your sex object
Show some feeling and respect
I don't want to be your sex object
I've had enough and that's a fact
Yes! No!
Yes! No!
I don't want to be your sex object
You play your tricks they're just perfect
I don't want to be your sex object
You turn me on then you forget
No! Why? [sex]
No! Why? [sex]
Maybe, Perhaps, Yes!
Maybe, Perhaps, Yes!
Yes! No!
Yes! No!
I don't want to be your sex object
You play your tricks they're just perfect
I don't want to be your sex object
I've had enough and that's a fact
[Spanish: No! Yes! Maybe Perhaps Yes]
No... si, si quieres
No... si, si quieres
Por que? No. Quizas.
Por que? No. A lo mejor.
Sex object
Sex object
No... si, si quieres
No... si, si quieres
Por que? No. Quizas.
Por que? No. A lo mejor.
No! Why? [sex]
No! Why? [sex]
Maybe, Perhaps, Yes!
Maybe, Perhaps, Yes!
[German?]
Sex object
Sex object
No! Why? [sex]
No! Why? [sex]
Maybe, Perhaps, Yes!
Maybe, Perhaps, Yes!
Sex object
Sex object
song performed by by Kraftwerk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Apple was our benefactor at starting General Magic, but about a year later decided they would rather BE General Magic and tried to make us blink out of existence... which we eventually did, but it took a few years.
quote by Andy Hertzfeld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I hate facts. I always say the chief end of man is to form general propositions - adding that no general proposition is worth a damn.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I hate facts. I always say the chief end of man is to form general propositions -- adding that no general proposition is worth a damn.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For believe me: the secret for harvesting from existence the greatest fruitfulness and greatest enjoyment is - to live dangerously.
Friedrich Nietzsche in The Gay Science
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All This Time You Had the Gift of Clairvoyance
Where have you been?
What is now being discussed...
Has disgusted us for years.
Oh...
That's right.
Your life wasn't being affected.
I was one of 'those'...
And you were part of the collective 'them'.
These issues were raised when the homeless hit the streets.
When hunger in the urban cities left many with nothing to eat.
Remember when you would drive by...
With your nose in the air and your car doors locked?
You do remember my interview...
For a job you told me my credentials were over the top.
You told me I was over qualified.
And I thought to myself...
'Qualified, you were not! '
Where have you been?
What is now being discussed...
Has disgusted us for years.
Those of us thrown crumbs to survive.
While you jeered us with your peers.
And now your tears display bigger drops as they fall.
Aren't you the one 'connected'?
I'm sure those thieves will not allow you to crawl.
Afterall...
You did tell me,
I was over qualified!
And all this time you had the gift of clairvoyance.
No better time than now,
Do you have to express this gift.
I see you sobbing uncontrollably!
What about you?
What do you see?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The mother and the artist
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of wonderfully emollient freshness; every
unfurling instant of impregnably magnificent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of spellbindingly undefeated innocence; every
unfurling instant of symbiotically pristine existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of timelessly unconquerable truth; every unfurling
instant of bounteously magnanimous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unfathomably unfettered creativity; every
unfurling instant of timelessly burgeoning existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of royally triumphant resplendence; every
unfurling instant of unconquerably majestic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of eternally exhilarating vivaciousness; every
unfurling instant of redolently insuperable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbelievably ameliorating optimism; every
unfurling instant of marvelously benign existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of brilliantly liberated camaraderie; every
unfurling instant of iridescently inscrutable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unshakably virgin righteousness; every
unfurling instant of beautifully untainted existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of uninhibitedly heavenly frolic; every unfurling
instant of tantalizingly sensuous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of compassionately humanitarian friendship; every
unfurling instant of magically mitigating existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of miraculously everlasting freshness; every
unfurling instant of invincibly coalescing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of pricelessly ubiquitous oneness; every unfurling
instant of robustly blessed existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbreakably Omnipotent desire; every unfurling
instant of victoriously effulgent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unceasingly reinvigorating fantasy; every
unfurling minute of poignantly charismatic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of insurmountably intrepid enchantment; every
unfurling minute of rhapsodically unhindered existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Omnisciently tranquil serenity; every unfurling
instant of endlessly bestowing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of perpetually fragrant breath; every unfurling
instant of Omnipresently benevolent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Immortally ardent love; every unfurling instant
of limitlessly fructifying existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fantastically alleviating poetry; every
unfurling instant of boundlessly splendid existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fabulously effervescent tanginess; every
unfurling instant of spiritually uplifting existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unlimitedly enlightening Sunshine; every
unfurling instant of infallibly luminescent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of immaculately godly melody; every unfurling
instant of amiably melanging existence,
Because. And Only Because. A Mother is; has and shall for times immemorial
remain the Greatest Sculptor of every organism on this astoundingly
multiplying Universe; A Mother is the Greatest Artist….
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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I never expected I would be connected to the Alpha male as some kind of ancillary object, and to this day it mystifies me.
quote by Courtney Love
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One
Youre in charge
You always were
Theres no denying
Fire burns
I took alot
But now Im gonna give
Back to you
Whatever I got
Cos we are one
And well always be
You were born first
Forever connected to me
Connected to me
Its not always how you want it to be
We had no choice,oh desperately
I had to leave
Now Im coming back
We had to see
Youre white and Im black
Cos we are one
And well always be
You were born first
Forever connected to me
Connected to me
Forever connected to me
song performed by by Hooverphonic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Republicans have offered dozens of comprehensive healthcare plans many of which achieve comprehensive healthcare reform without breaking what's working in healthcare. We want to fix what's broken in healthcare.
Disconnected
I watch you stumble through the morning
I watch you stumble home at night
Silhouetted by a sun without sunlight
I've watched you walk straight through an evening
When you're laden with the day
And the light of the moon, it only gets in your way
From a bedroom window I was anyone
And the street I look upon is my runaway
But I'm connected to the places I don't feel connected from
I'm connected to the place that I don't feel like I'm from
This is the kind of town where everyone knows each other
And everyone hates that they know each other
And no one is getting any younger
From my bedroom window I was anyone
Every street I look upon could be a runaway
But I'm connected to the places I don't feel connected from
I'm connected to the place that I don't feel like I'm from
I'm connected to the places I don't feel connected from
I don't feel connected from
So move on here now
You don't belong here now
You don't belong
You'll never belong
You don't belong here now
You don't belong here now
You don't belong here now
You don't belong
You'll never belong
You don't belong here now
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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